Deadly Illusions: The 63rd Annual Hunger Games SYOT
by Screen-seer
Summary: 60. 59. 58. The sun obscures all but the Cornucopia with it's weapons and supplies taunting us. I block the light with my palm. Water. Behind me the land is dry. There goes my hope for supplies. Let the 63rd Annual Hunger Games Begin! SYOT OPEN Boys needed: 6,8,9,12 Girls needed: 11
1. Chapter 1

I stare at Mr. Lloyd in confusion. He can't be serious. Head Gamemaker is one of the most illustrious positions in the Capitol, second to only the president. To just decide to retire after one year...The man must be truly insane.

"Ah, I see your confusion Pollux- may I call you Pollux?" Mr. Lloyd starts his explanation. I nod dumbly. "Good, anyway you're wondering why I would give up such a position, such an opportunity. The answer, my dear boy, is my health. All these politics aren't good for me in my old age."

"Why me?" My question isn't asked rudely, but it isn't polite to question such an offer. Mr. Lloyd doesn't seem offended though.

"I see potential in you, Pollux O'Carthy. You're made of the same stuff I was. If anybody can put the tributes througb the ringer it's you."

"I appreciate this sir," I thank him. My gratitude is sincere, but sounds half-hearted. Ideas are swirling through my head:mutts, epic battles forced by my hand, darkness, and raw survival. I can finally create the picture rather than just painting it.

**A/N: **

Hey guys! This is my third SYOT, and I have so many ideas, but they all depend on what kind of tributes get submitted. This will be documenting the 61st games. If you have an account, please pm me your forms, but if you don't then you can submit it by review.  
The Form:

Name:

Age:

District:

Personality:

Appearance:

Family:

Friends:

Background:

Reaped or Volunteered:

Token:

Reaping Outfit:

Are they open to alliances?:

Do you want me to do a sponsor points thing?

Other:


	2. District 1 Reaping and Goodbyes

District 1 Reaping

(I typed this on a tablet, and it wouldn't let me indent paragraphs. I'll try to fix it soon)

POV: Chantilly Monroe

I look in the mirror. Blonde hair and delicate features stare back at me. Despite what my mother says, there isn't a single person who would find me intimidating in my white dress. It's not the dress itself; it might work wonders if it weren't coupled with my fair skin and platinum hair.

Today's an important day for my family. Reaping Day is important to us every year, but this year it's even more so because I'm volunteering.

I'm not scared: I've trained my whole life. Sometimes it feels like I was only born to be a tribute. I shake the thought away. There's no need to get emotional. I can't afford to let my guard down in the games, so I might as well start now.

I hear my parents bustling in the kitchen. The dishes clink as my mother washes them. My father laughs uproariously at something Quimby says. They don't have a care in the world. After all, in two weeks we'll be rich and famous- a family of champions.

I probably should feel like a chess piece, but I don't. My parents are right, I do owe them. I grew up in this ornate house with copious amounts of food. I was trained by past Victors, and I even was occasionally given ice cream. That's a dream for most of Panem's children.

"Chantilly, are you ready? The reaping starts in twenty minutes, and we wouldn't want you to miss your chance to volunteer," My mother calls from the door. Her tone makes it apparent that she wishes it were her volunteering. I sigh, shrugging my shoulders, it's now or never.

We get to the square just in time for the reaping. My parents head to the front for the best view while Quimby gives me a quick hug, "Give them hell, Chant." I barely manage to keep my mouth from dropping. Quimby rarely shows affection, much less in public. He must be overjoyed for him to go as far as hugging me. I catch my best friend, Finely's eyes. If anyone stands a chance as tribute besides me then it would be her. She even looks menacing with her tall figure unlike me.

Our escort, Trula Timmons reads through the lengthy list of past victors. Cashmere catches my eye in concern, and I shrug dismissively, schooling my features. I can't give anybody ammunition against me.

"Ladies first," Trula swirls her hand in the bowl, an excited expression on her face. I roll my eyes. Why does she even bother anymore? Someone volunteers every year anyway. "Ambrosia Harl."

I wait for the shaking fourteen year old to reach the stage before making my move. As I walk forward, the other eighteen year olds clear a path for me.

"I volunteer as tribute."

Nobody seems surprised, but a few of the seventeen year old girls seem disappointed. I scoff inwardly. Did they honestly believe that they would get to volunteer with me being in my last year? I had to wait, so they do to.

Once I stand next to Trula on stage, and Ambrosia is safely standing with the fourteen year olds again, I say my name into the microphone in the center of the stage.

"Chantilly Monroe."

POV: Evander Hermes

I can't hide my annoyance as my sister, Gia stalks off. We're supposed to be walking to the reaping, but now I'll have to find her. I know that us being from a wealthy family won't matter to the peacekeepers if we miss the reaping.

"What's wrong, Hermes?" A voice says to my left, its tone mocking, "Did you not get your way for once?"

I scowl, turning to the source of the voice. When I see Dawn Bates, my scowl turns into a cocky smile. She raises her eyebrows.

"It's not the first time. I can't seem to get my way with you," I intentionally smarm. Most girls would be beat red after my comment. I'm not bad looking with my dad's dark brown hair and muscular frame, and the easily tanned skin from my mom. Dawn just arches her eyebrows even more.

"Did you come up with that in the two hours you spend getting ready?" She asks sarcastically.

I step closer to her, lowering my voice, "The two hours paid off, didn't they? You can't resist me."

Dawn throws back her head with a short bark of laughter, "You wish, Pretty Boy. That might work with most girls, but not with me. See you at the reaping, Hermes." She turns and walks away without looking back. I allow myself a grin, knowing that I had won that round.

When I reach the reaping, Gia is already there, laughing wildly with her friends. I try to shrug it off, but it really stings that she genuinely doesn't like me. It's not that she likes the rest of our family either. That's just how Gia is.

One of my friends comes to stand next to me. He says something, but I just nod, pretending to listen. I'm not feeling talkative, not that I ever do. The only times I really talk are around my family and when I flirt with girls.

I watch Chantilly Monroe volunteer for the girls. I've always felt bad for her. She never gets to do what she wants because her energy is focused on the dreams of her family. She's beautiful though, and if she hadn't always been so focused, I might have even asked her out at some point.

"Now for our boys," Trula pulls a slip straight from the center and unfolds it, "Evander Hermes."

My shoulders tense, and I glance around, waiting for someone to volunteer. Nobody does. I guess it's time to start playing. I glance over my shoulder with a confident grin at no one in particular before striding to the stage.

I stare at Chantilly through Mayor Hamilton's speech. Her mouth is set in a grim line, and her expression is cold. I shiver despite the warm air. Her eyes are hard and competitive. She knows that she can win.

But so do I.

As we shake hands, I smirk. Let the games begin.

POV: Chantilly Monroe

Finely shakes her head at me sadly. We're in the Justice Building to say goodbye. At least I'll be back, so she's not saying it for life. Evander Hermes is having to see his family for the last time. It must be terrible to know you're not coming home.

"I'm gonna miss you terribly. It won't be the same without you," Finely says, resting her hand on top of mine, "I trust you though. You"ll come home."

"You're right. I promise to bring you back that special tea that you like," I reassure her with a smile. She gives me one last hug before opening the door.

Quimby comes rushing in. He hugs me really tightly, "That's from mother and father. They can't come to say goodbye. They're busy talking to the mayor about sponsors."  
I try not to let my disappointment show on my face. It obviously doesn't because Quimby plows right on, "We're so proud of you. Remember to be smart, and establish your standing early. I have something for you."

He hands me a necklace that's engraved with the words 'winning is everything'. My token.

"Thank you, Quimby," I thank my brother in a quiet voice. He gives my shoulder one parting squeeze and leaves. He doesn't say goodbye. He's confident that I'll come back.

POV: Evander Hermes

My family comes. So do my 'friends'. I tell the peacekeeper that I only want to see family. He nods and shoos the teenagers waiting outside. My family comes into the room.  
My mother has tear tracks on her face as she wraps her arms around me. My dad's face is a stony mask. He's angry, not at me, but at the situation and at himself.

"It's not your fault," I assure him, and he shakes his head.

He shakes his head. "It is," he raises his hand to stop my protests, "Now is not the time to argue about blame though. It's time to say goodbye. I love you son. I'm very proud no matter what, always remember that. Trust in your training and your instincts, it will get you home."

When he steps back, Gia comes forward, "I'm sorry for being such a brat. I never even imagined you getting reaped. I love you."

I beckon her to my arms, and I give her a hug, "It's fine, Gia. I never dreamed of it either. I love you more than anything, so don't you worry your messy little head about it." I ruffle her head, and she glares at me as she tries to smooth it down. I stick out my tongue, causing her and Ares to giggle.

Ares looks up at me under his eyelashes. He looks exactly like our mom, but a twelve year old male version. "You promise to come home?" His voice is soft like it's a forbidden question.

The peacekeeper comes in to usher them out.

"I promise."

My family is whisked away. Goodbyes are over. It's time to board the train for what might be the last time in my life.

A/N: I've decided to do the sponsorship thing. Here's how it works: submitting a tribute is ten points, any review is worth three points, a review with critique is worth eight points, and answering the trivia at the end of each chapter correctly is worth 5 points. I'll post prices on my profile before the actual arena. May the odds be ever in your favor. Tributes so far are as follows:

D1G- Chantilly Monroe  
D1B- Evander Hermes  
D2G-  
D2B- Lysander Paxton  
D3G- Natasha Marino  
D3B-  
D4G- Gemini Rivers  
D4B-  
D5G-Reserved  
D5B-Reserved  
D6G-Grace Winchester  
D6B-  
D7G- Destiny Pearl Sanders  
D7B-  
D8G- Isla Crawley  
D8B-  
D9G-  
D9B-  
D10G- Natalie Shadray  
D10B-  
D11G-  
D11B-  
D12G-  
D12B-

Trivia: Are the stylists in the Hunger Games allowed to bet on tributes?

Tell me what you thought!


End file.
